Tis a Long Story
by TrivialQueen
Summary: Wee Dingwall returns home after the Betrothal Games. Dingwall/OFC. A slight prequel to 'A Merry War'. Complete. Two-shot.
1. Chapter 1

Tis a Long Story

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Disclaimer: I am not BRAVE enough to claim that I own Merida, the Suitors, or anyone else.

Summary: Wee Dingwall returns home after the Betrothal Games. Dingwall/OFC. A slight prequel to 'A Merry War'. Complete. Two-shot.

* * *

The chamber was still when he entered; weary after travel and the long drawn out process of the betrothal that never happened. Ennis Dingwall heaved a sigh and dropped his ruck sack by the door. Not bothering to light a lamp he crossed the stone floor he knew by heart, littering his path with clothes until he was dress in not but his tunic. He and his father and their clansmen had returned late to the castle Dingwall and his mother had insisted on hearing every detail of every moment of every day that he had been gone. The moon was high in the night sky before he was allowed to retire to his room.

The entire conversation he had wanted but two things – for it to be over and to go to bed. Slipping under the thick furs he smiled for the first time since he left the castle a week prior. He rolled over to a more comfortable position, his lean arm snaking around the soft waist beside him. He pulled the petite figure flush against his chest, his nose burying deep into her golden crown. The towheaded laird inhaled deeply of the rosewater and lily that was his lover and pressed his lips gently to her scalp.

"Ennis?" Her voice was whispered disbelief, she turned in his arms. The youth gave her a sleepy smile and a lazy kiss.

"Yes, _mo chroí_?"1 Her thin fingers traced his features as if she was certain he was a dream. He kissed her fingertips as they ghosted over his lips to tell her he was certainly real.

"How did the games go? The betrothal? Why were you gone so long?" Her head cocked slightly with question, her hair fanning over his pillows in ribbons of gold, gleaming in the moonlight. He ran a hand through the strands, relishing their softness.

"Tis a long story, Love."

"Will you at least tell me who won?" She pressed, amethyst gaze glowing. He had never been able to deny her when she looked at him with such affection.

"I did."

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1 _mo chroí _– My Heart


	2. Chapter 2

Tis a Long Story

* * *

Disclaimer: I am not BRAVE enough to claim that I own Merida, the Suitors, or anyone else.

Summary: Wee Dingwall returns home after the Betrothal Games. Dingwall/OFC. A slight prequel to 'A Merry War'. Complete. Two-shot.

* * *

"Wh-what?" She asked, pushing away from him, scrambling away from him. Her eyes were the size of saucers.

"And she won." His arms tightened around her, doing his best to keep her by his side. Neither his grasp nor his words helped and in the flail of arms and a look of despair his lover was on the exact opposite side of his bed.

Ennis was now fully awake. His bonnie Bonny teetered on the edge of his mattress, chest heaving under one of his tunics, her eyes and hair wild. He reached for her, distressed at her distress but she recoiled from his touch as if his hand would burn her.

"You are betrothed? You are to be married?" Her whisper was hardly hushed and her sweet voice cracked.

"No. No, no, no." He said emphatically, "No I am not. I won the contest between Dougal, Gregor, and myself, but she won the match and we are not betrothed. Tis a long story." He scooted towards her across the bed. She retreated further, to the window seat beside his bed. She curled herself up on the cushion, keeping her limbs tight about herself and as far from him as she could manage.

"I think Ennis Dingwall that I deserve to hear it." Her reply was brittle. He sat up, the blankets and furs of his bed pooling around his waist. In the moonlight filtering in through the window he could see the glitter of tears in his love's eyes and he wished and wanted nothing more than to pull her back into the bed they had shared in secret lo these past years, cradle her to his chest and kiss away her misery. But he did no such thing for he knew better, in the years that they had been friends, confidants, and lovers he had learned her moods, her looks. He knew her mind as well as he knew his own. He knew the look in her eyes.

Instead of kissing her, instead of holding her, celebrating their reunion in the way he had imagined and hoped they would he ran a hand through his pale hair, tugging slightly at it in frustration. Taking a deep breath and a moment to gather his thoughts, he began;

"Tradition holds that the eldest child of each of the clans competes for the hand of the princess in some contest or feat of strength that the princess dictates. The winner of the contest is awarded the princess' hand in marriage. The princess, Merida, chose archery. Of all the sports, of all the contests, she chose to settle her marriage with arrow and bow. I had hoped, I had wished that she would chose anything else – a feat of strength or stamina, a challenge with a sword, but alas. We took to the range, and I swear to you, _a st__ó__r_, I did everything I could to lose.1 To miss the target, to fail the challenge. But King Fergus grew tired of my attempts to bungle my shot, and that booming voice of his startled me into a proper shot, a good shot. A bull's eye." He closed his pale moon eyes with the memory of that horrible moment, the sickness that churned his stomach as he saw the arrow quiver in the red straw of the target. He had wanted to cry but had forced himself to smile. He needed to appear on the outside as if he was happy to have won the match and the fair maiden. On the inside he had been screaming. He opened his eyes, and his gaze met hers. There was only one woman he wanted to marry, and it was not the redheaded daughter of the king, no matter her lineage, her spirit, or his duty.

"But," He continued, "No sooner had my arrow stopped quivering in its mark, the Princess herself began firing, walking down the range and loosing arrows – each truer to its mark than mine. She split my arrow down the middle and it bedded itself all the way into the brace of the target. Technically the first born of the clan is eligible for the games, and in this case the hand of the maiden. Merida shot for her own hand and won." On her window perch Bonny uncurled slightly from her defensive position. One slender leg uncurled from beneath her and instead extended along the bench before the window. His tunic was hiked high on her thigh, exposing even more of her fair flesh to his gaze and the light of the moon. The stars through the glass made her skin glow with an ethereal light. It enthralled him. Its beauty, its nakedness. He was but a man and she was beautiful.

"Ennis," She said, "Ennis, what does it mean? What happened when she won – did she even win? Ennis?" She had to repeat herself thrice before he could focus on her question. He looked up at her face and she gave him a wry smile. She was uncertain of their future but not his desire or affection.

"It was unprecedented and all hell broke loose. The Queen was furious. I've never seen such a quiet rage as that of the Queen's, she drug Merida off and for what felt like years we heard nothing of them. Not a word. Not a word as to if I had truly won, if she had won, or if the marriage was still on. Bonny, _a chuisle mo chroí_, it was hell."2 His father was a difficult man to live with under the best circumstances, but locked in Castle DunBroch with the King and the Lords Macintosh and MacGuffin antagonizing his father, waiting and waiting for his fate… that time from the end of the Games until the Princess' return had to have been the worst collection of hours in his life.

"Merida did return, eventually. And my bonnie Bonny, you are my heart and my soul but she announced the most wonderful decision the Queen could have ever made, I was so elated I could have kissed her. The Princess and her mother decided that instead of persisting in the tradition of betrothals based on politics, her marriage, and by extension our marriages – my marriage – should be based on mutual love and affection and that we should not have to wed until we were ready." His words took a moment to sink in, but when she finally understood the news the grin that split her face shone brighter than the sun.

"You are not betrothed?" She asked, leaning closer to him on her seat. "In truth?"

"I wouldn't say that." He replied, slipping from the bed and dropping down on his knees before her. He took her hand in both of his and looked up into her amethyst eyes. "I am not betrothed to the Princess, but I would very much like to be betrothed, if it meant that my wife-to-be was you."

"Oh Ennis," She breathed, "Are you-? Yes. Yes. A thousand times yes." She smiled. He smiled and sat up on his knees to kiss her, his hands tunneling through her hair and cradling the back of her skull, holding her as close to him as he possibly could. When they finally broke apart after several minutes of depleting oxygen, he rested his forehead against hers and looked directly into her amethyst gaze.

"I love you." He said sincerely. She caressed his cheeks and briefly kissed him again.

"And I love you, _mo muirnín_, and I love you."3 He took her hands in his and kissed each fingertip, her palms, her wrists.

"The entire voyage home I could not stop thinking of all the ways in which I wanted to tell you, I swear to you I had planned to ask for your hand good and proper. I had wanted to wait until I had the betrothal gifts and blessing of your Father, but Love, I just couldn't wait." She pulled him from his worshipful attention to her arms and into a third kiss.

"Oh, Ennis, none of that matters, not to me. Not right now. Right now I am still amazed that you want to marry me. That you love me. That is what marriage is about, not what jewelry you bring me or the fact you spoke to my father. I'm too happy to care, Ennis, you want to marry me!" He stood, pulling her up into his arms and spinning her around before gently dropping her back onto his bed, amongst his blankets was where he was certain she looked best.

"Of course I want to marry you! Why wouldn't I want to spend the rest of my life with you by my side? You are beautiful, you are patient, you are kind, and I love you." He lay down and pulled her petite figure flush against his chest, his nose burying deep into her golden crown.

"And I love you." Bonny whispered, her eyes finally closing behind her thick lashes and her body finally finding a peaceful rest. Ennis lay awake for a few moments longer, marveling at the woman in his arms. How he ever ended up with a woman so beautiful was still a mystery to him even though they had been sharing a bed for years. But none of that mattered, not really, not any more. The only thing that mattered was that he was now free to marry this girl. And he would.

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1 _a stór – _My Treasure

2 _a chuisle mo chroí _– Pulse of my Heart

3 _mo muirnín _– My Darling


End file.
